


December 3 - 22 red rangers

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Multi-Age, Other - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2005-12-02
Packaged: 2018-03-22 21:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3744515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today's writing "mathom" is:</p><p>twenty-two red rangers</p><p>***</p><p>Write whatever you feel like – a drabble, a poem or a short story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sincerest Form of Flattery - by Gwynnyd

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

"It's disgusting!"  Faramir burst through the door into his brother's office.  
  
Boromir raised one eyebrow. "When did you get judgmental? You should be flattered that he copied your livery."  
  
"Flattered?" Faramir snorted his contempt. "With twenty-two of them swaggering around the city in that garish color?  Even father doesn't travel with that much escort."  
  
"He's young, new come to his honors, and very proud of his position," Boromir said soothingly.  
  
"He's only two years younger than I am. It's no excuse."  
  
"Perhaps down in the south…"  
  
Faramir snorted again.  "Red Rangers!  Even in the desert, _that_ color is not camouflage!"  
  



	2. Forests & Hunting - RiverOtter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

Forests  
  
The scent of fresh pines  
Twenty-two red clad rangers  
Feasting and laughing  
  
Hunting  
  
Green Henneth Annun  
Twenty-two red clad rangers  
Searching for strangers


	3. Untitled - by Raksha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

"What have you to say for yourself?  asked the Prince of  Ithilien of the  
young and red-faced lieutenant.  
  
"We were on leave, my lord." answered the tall officer, turning  redder, if  
that was possible.  His hands were also red; as were the faces  and fingers of  
the twenty-two Rangers who now stood at attention.  It could  be more  
accurate, thought the Prince, to describe the hue as purplish-red.    
  
"…And they were short-handed for the pressing of the grapes in  Greenhollow;  
you know, the village below Amon Din.  We thought it only  right to offer our  
help, so they would not fall short in their  harvest."  
  
"And such help led to this new coloration?"  
  
"It would have not have been fitting to leave with the work  unfinished, Sir.  
 Then there was the feast to celebrate it; and wine that  needed sampling.    
We could not disappoint our hosts; we had to uphold the  honor of Ithilien's  
finest!"  
  
"Of course you did, lieutenant."  The Prince of Ithilien said  kindly.  "  
Very well, since you were all on leave, I deem such occupation  acceptable.  You  
and your men are dismissed."  
  
As the lieutenant turned, obviously relieved, to go, the Prince  caught him  
by the shoulder.  "Your honor is unstained, but the same cannot  be said for  
other attributes.  I suggest that you scrub your face before  you go up to greet  
your mother."  
  
Elboron blushed again.  "Yes, sire" he replied, grateful that  his men had  
started to disperse.  
  
Finally, the Prince smiled and pressed his son's shoulder.  He  remembered  
another young Ranger and his band who had passed, off-duty, through  the same  
village and aided in the vineyard's harvest, before leaving with red  faces and  
aching heads.  "Call your men, my son" Faramir urged. "Let us  assure that  
all of Ithilien's Finest take some  tea."  
  



	4. 22 Red Rangers - by Stefania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

What had begun as a pleasant late October day turned humid and then  oppressively hot by mid-afternoon. Faramir had picked this particular day to suspend his typical ministerial duties in Minas Tirith to lead a training mission for new Ranger recruits wishing to improve their archery skills.  
  
In these days of uneasy peace, the Ranger patrols were nonetheless largely uneventful. When they reached the clear pond not far from the Steward's manor in Emyn Arnen, the patrol dismounted and let the horses drink. One of the younger fellows, Maglor by name, declared himself longing for a swim. Faramir motioned his permission to the youngsters, then sat on the bank of the pond while the lads stripped off their leathers, tunics, and undergarments. They splashed gleefully into the water while the Steward guarded the discarded clothing and kept lookout.  
  
Even in these days of peace, there was always a chance they could be ambushed by the rogue orcs that slunk about in the unexplored corners of Ithilien. If only Faramir didn't have to maintain the dignified demeanor of the second-in-command in Gondor. The water looked so inviting. At least I can take off some of this armor and moisten my tunic, Faramir thought. He had just unlaced his leather hauberk when his highly-trained senses heard a rustle in the bushes nearby.  
  
He reached for his bow, which as ever was by his side, and was about to whistle a warning when he heard a female voice yell out, "Husband! That's you and your men, isn't it?"  
  
Twenty-one skinny dipping Rangers, some of whom were lounging comfortably on the banks of the pond, quickly immersed themselves up to their necks in the water.  
  
Eowyn parted a growth of bushes that tried to grab at her simple gown. Hardly phased by the sight of wet male heads in the pond and the piles of clothing strewn about the shore, she approached her sweltering husband, "A messenger just came from Minas Tirith. The emissaries from the Long Lake have finally arrived. Aragorn is calling a big council tomorrow at mid-day and wants us both to be there."  
  
"Okay," Faramir agreed but then gasped. His wife had bent down, grabbed the hem of her dress, and suddenly lifted it over her head. Her flimsy chemise was revealed to the Rangers who could not help but look. Only Faramir could hear her muffled voice say, "It's so hot. I could use a nice swim, myself."  
  
"Wife, you know well that we don't take family swimming holidays here in Gondor!" Faramir cried out in consternation but to no avail. Drat those Rohirric bathing customs, he thought, as the Princess of Ithilien blithely removed her remaining garments and stepped into the pond for a swim among her husband's troupers.  
  
On that sweltering October day, there were 21 red-faced Rangers in the pond and one red-faced, red-headed former Ranger captain on the shore.  
  



	5. Burned by Aranel Took

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

The first day after crossing the River Poros he merely regretted volunteering to guard Gondor's ambassador. On the second day, he considered desertion. He could not imagine how people could live in this dry, harsh land.

The third day they approached a city of tents set up near the road and met dark skinned Haradrim wrapped in cloth from head to toe. He had always thought wearing so much clothing was odd for such a hot place, but now it made sense. He glanced at his fellow rangers. All twenty-two of them were burned bright red by the unforgiving sun.


	6. 22 Red Rangers - by Dean Maia of Este

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

22 Red Rangers  
  
"Did your Rangers start this foolishness?"  
  
The young captain did not wilt under the Captain-General's stare. "They admit to being the first in the tavern and the first to challenge the Guards, but they accepted the challenge fairly."  
  
The Captain-General turned from the twenty-two Rangers wrapped in red rugs and glared at the Guardsmen. "Did your men decide to steal the Ranger's uniforms before or after the challenge to swim the river in record time?"  
  
The Guard captain did his best not to show his anger to his commander. "The Guards I have here admit they stole the uniforms because they thought the Rangers disrespectful." He turned to face them and bellowed, "Didn't you?"  
  
It was all the Guards could do to keep from falling down drunk.  
  
"That is enough." The Captain-General said sternly. "Since your Guards violated the rule of challenge they are confined to quarters until the Rangers leave Minas Trinth. The Eldest Man will teach them the rule. Dismissed."  
  
He glared less menacingly at the Ranger captain. "After your men receive clean uniforms they will return the rugs to the caravan and each personally apologize for 'borrowing' them."  
  
"Yes sir. Sir, one request. Please do not tell the Steward about this until the Rangers leave the City?"  
  
"Do not worry Faramir, I will not."  
  
  



	7. Pointsettias - by Agape4Gondor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

## Pointsettias

It seemed all was quiet. Strider held his breath. "Hollin once was filled with Elves…" he whispered.   
  
"I would just like to have my stomach filled," Pippin sniped. "With warm food and a pint of Butterbur's ale." 

"Aye, laddie, my stomach longs for roast meat and good ale," the Dwarf concurred.   
  
Legolas remembered the last time he visited Hollin. Elves were everywhere, dancing, singing, and laughing. Then, covered with poinsettias as useless camouflage, Rangers swept through the crowd. Did they honestly think walking poinsettias would fool the Elves!   
  
Legolas scowled. "Filled with Elves until those **_twenty-two red Rangers_ ** came along!" 


End file.
